The clocks go forward tonight, how good is that? It means I will be cycling home from work in daylight, as well as perhaps the odd hour here and there out on the bike when I get home. Perhaps the extra daylight may mean I don't have to go round our house switching so many lights off all the time. I know I sound like my Dad, circa 1975, perhaps I even sound like Dads everywhere, but what is it that happens in the brain that remembers to switch the light on but can't possibly contemplate switching it off when you leave the darkened room?
As you can see I'm in moaning mood, so just one final whinge before I get going. Mini Mendip rouleur was away on school camp this week, and much as I missed him, it was a novel experience to find rooms strangely free of mess, and the floors free of clothes.
Still, just like a spark lights up the dark, today's weather illuminated the highways and byways of Somerset with cyclists. Big cyclists, lycra-clad cyclists, short cyclists, roadies, free riders, families, couples, old boys and newbies. March? It was so warm today, that the shorts were joined on my body by a short-sleeved top and gilet. And even that had to come off by the cafe stop, and by lunchtime I was feeling distinctly over-dressed.
It was an ACG day, five, (Doc, Boots, Skip, me and the one who shall now be called the Mendip Mackem, or MM for short) of us for Act 1, just the two of us, me and MM, made it into Act 2. For starters Skip had a schedule, her birthday celebrations, which like those of this Icelandic football team seem brilliantly elaborate, and meant she had to be back in Axbridge for noon. Do check those celebrations out by the way, they must have taken a fair amount of thought to devise, choreograph and perform. Which can't have been easy for a bunch of footballers. Just joking!
So we tanked it over towards Glastonbury, where we have discovered and partaken of refreshments and yet another new cafe, which impressively also has yurts that you can rent out for the night. The possibilities are endless. We enjoyed the sunshine, the cake (me mainly, although abstemious on the jam and cream), but missed the hippies that a full-blown visit to Glastonbury would normally bring.
Just before the cafe, I invented a new warning, which I have been waiting years to shout at the front of a group. Let's just say it is one of Bunny's favourite jokes too, and involves a male bird in the road.
We skirted all the usual places as Skip forced the pace to get back, unfortunately Boots sustained a puncture just before Wedmore. He generously suggested we carry on, to Skip's relief, and because he had no intention of doing Act 2, and neither did Doc who waited with him.
After the usual blast down the Clewer road, MM and I said goodbye to Skip, and together, headed up the gorge and across the top of the Mendips. From there it was tailwind-assisted descent of Burrington, a short up through Butcombe and down to Wrington and Winscombe. MM decided 100km wasn't enough for him, so he sauntered off towards the Webbington, whilst I climbed my very own Winscombe Hill back home.
A lovely, hot day was rounded off nicely by a good sleep and a clean bike. I didn't switch Charlie on until I got to Axbridge, so it's 2 miles short, and a bit further than I planned to go today, it was just so nice it would be a shame to waste the weather. But I also want to avoid last year's mistake of burning myself out before the middle of the year. The route is largely complete, and does show some pretty good climbing and descending by the two of us in Act 2. As for MM, the rest of us better watch out. Not only is he as hard as nails, he's clearly training on the qt, taking EPO and going to the gym on a regular basis. When he can master the brakes and changing gear with his dodgy hand we better prepare for a serious kicking.
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